Chapter 129: My love, what's wrong?
~Ava's POV ~
The journey to the King's court seemed to take forever. Gemma carried me with such ease that I almost forgot she was the captain of the Lycanthrope.
Her arms were steady, cradling me against her chest as we moved through the palace corridors.
"We're almost there, my lady," Gemma whispered, her voice tight with concern. "I can feel his power from here."
She wasn't wrong. Even I could feel it now, a heavy pressure in the air, like it would drown anyone that couldn't withstand it.
When we reached the huge double doors leading to the court, two guards stood frozen in place, their faces pale with fear. Gemma pushed past them, carrying me into the grand chamber.
The sight that greeted me stole my breath away.
The King's court, normally a place of order and dignity, had transformed into a scene of terror.
Ministers, council elders, and temple priests were on their knees, heads bowed so low their foreheads touched the polished floor.
Many were trembling visibly. Some had already collapsed entirely, their bodies sprawled across the cold stone, unconscious.
And at the centre of it, all was Raphael.
He looked wild. Dangerous. His white hair flowed around him like it was caught in an invisible wind, dancing and lashing out as though it had a mind of its own.
His hands, those same hands that had caressed my face so gently, were now engulfed in blue-white flames that caused burning shadows and sweats across the chamber.
What shocked me most were his eyes when they briefly met mine. One remained the familiar deep gray I'd come to love, but the other had changed to a swirling mix of gold and black.
"Have mercy, oh King!" someone cried out from the corner, their voice breaking with fear.
Gemma carried me forward, each step seeming to cost her more effort than the last.
When we reached the center of the courtroom, she carefully set me down before immediately dropping to her knees. Raphael's aura was too much for even her to bear standing.
But strangely, I felt nothing of the crushing energy that had everyone else bowing. The oppressive energy that filled the room seemed to flow around me. It was as though I existed in a bubble of calm amid the chaos, immune to Raphael's godly aura.
My eyes swept across the room, taking in the scene. People were weeping, begging, praying, all afraid for their lives.
The ministers who had always looked at me with contempt now knelt with their proud faces pressed to the floor. The elders who had whispered behind my back now trembled with fear.
In the corner, I spotted Drogon sitting with his fists curled tight, a look of frustration on his face. Something was wrong.
Drogon would never have allowed this madness to continue unless he couldn't stop it. And nearby, even Gwen was on her knees, her eyes wide with fear.
Seeing Gwen like that, brought low, snapped me out of my shock. This had to end. Now.
"My love, what's wrong?" I asked gently, trying to reach out to him.
Raphael, who had been pacing like a caged beast, turned around at the sound of my voice. His eyes locked onto mine with strong intensity. For a moment, he just stared, as though trying to place who I was.
Then he started moving toward me, each stride purposeful and predatory. The flames around his hands grew brighter, wilder.
I couldn't move away even if I wanted to. My weakened body was barely keeping me upright. But more than that, I didn't want to move.
This was Raphael. My Raphael. Despite everything happening around us, despite the fear in the room, I knew in my heart he would never hurt me.
When he reached me, his eyes burned with hunger.
"Mate." The word rumbled from his chest, but it wasn't just Raphael's voice I heard. Grey, His wolf. Both of them were looking at me now.
"Yes. Mate," I responded, smiling gently up at him. I let go of all my fear, all my doubt. This man had given me everything. He had saved me, protected me, loved me.
He had also taken everything from me, my home, my people, my freedom. But in this moment, I refused to dwell on that dark truth. Not when he needed me.
He suddenly pulled me into a fierce embrace. His arms wrapped around me like iron bands, pressing me against his chest.
Pain rushed through my body like wildfire, and I couldn't stop the small cry that escaped my lips.
Immediately, Raphael drew back, his mismatched eyes wide as he looked me over. The flames around his hands dimmed slightly.
"Did I hurt mate?" he asked, his voice still that strange dual harmony of man and beast. His hands shook as they hovered above my shoulders, afraid to touch me again.
I knew instantly that if I said yes; if I admitted to the pain, he would retreat into blame and self-hatred. That wasn't what he needed right now. It wasn't what anyone in this room needed.
So I smiled up at him and gently shook my head. "No, you didn't hurt me," I lied softly.
Relief washed over his face, and he pulled me back into his embrace, gentler this time, cradling me as though I were made of glass. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the thundering of his heart.
Slowly, the dangerous aura he had been projecting began to recede. The oppressive power lifting from the room. The flames around his hands flickered and died. His hair settled back against his shoulders. The color in his strange eye began to fade, returning to its normal gray.
I felt his body relax, degree by degree, until he was just Raphael again, my Raphael.
"I am losing it, am I not?" he whispered against my hair, so quietly that only I could hear. His voice was his own again, the grey's presence fading.
"No," I whispered back, my arms tightening around him despite the pain it caused me. "You're finding your way back. That's what matters."
Over his shoulder, I could see the ministers and elders beginning to stand, looking up cautiously as if they couldn't believe they were still alive.
Drogon had unclenched his fists and was watching us with relief clear on his face. He rush to Gwen assisting her to stand. Gwen does the same to Anastasia.
"What happened?" I asked softly, still holding onto Raphael.
He drew back just enough to look into my eyes, shame and anger warring on his face. "They demanded I take a wife. A proper queen from noble blood. They said it was time I stopped..." He paused, swallowing hard. "They said it was time I stopped playing with my slave girl and did my duty to the kingdom."
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. So that was it. I was still just the slave girl to them, no matter what I had done, no matter what I had sacrificed.
"And that made you angry," I said. It wasn't a question.
"I lost control," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "Grey took over. We both did. All I could think about was making them understand that you are not to be disrespected. That you are my mate, my queen, regardless of where you came from."
I reached up to touch his face, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Raphael, you can't force them to accept me. Not like this."
"I am their king," he said fiercely, his eyes flashing. "They will accept what I say, or..."
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